More Fickle Things
by Terakali
Summary: A series of side stories or omakes for the fanfiction Fickle Things. Most chapters are going to be self contained, so I won't really put anything here.
1. Reach For The Sky

**"You are the sky. Everything else is just the weather."**

Ah, a day off. Well, technically every day was a day off, so it's a day where he didn't already plan to blow everything off with Sora and Shiro.

So... A day off, yeah.

Most of his time was taken up either by royal duties, the kind of things the siblings absolutely abhorred actually doing, or by playing games with the above king and queen, so he really had no idea what to do with his free time.

 _Well, I suppose I could go check out a movie. The Werebeasts have already made fully immersive ones with their full-dive tech._

That decision had its own little niggles, like what movie to watch, but he could deal with that after the walk over. The Werebeasts were full fledged allies, yes, but cinema's were still pretty much only in their territory.

 _Just another thing to fix, I suppose._

Another time, though. He had free time, and he was gonna use it.

That said, he had a long trail ahead of him.

Spring in his step, Draga starts running through the streets, ducking around people, leaping over carts or small fences, and bypassing the clogged bridges by leaping strings or running across the railings.

Unfortunately, his attentive awareness of everything going on around him, a necessity in being a traceur, brings his attention to a perfect distraction.

A scarcely dressed flugel, of all things.

 _Shit._

In the split second his attention is taken by the genuinely attractive female, he slips and spills forward...

Knocking directly into the angelic creature...

Shoving her down...

And catching himself with his hands on the ground beside her instead of her breasts, like someone with genuinely competent limbs.

 _Whew... Disaster averted._

Draga shoves off with his left hand hand, pulling himself from the newly created kneeling position to a standing one.

"Sorry about that, miss."

She doesn't just let it go, which cuts one more traditional media portrayal of the scene, but there's always a chance for the typical anime slap.

 _Curse my luck._

Her face contorts into one of anger and embarrassment, something you'd probably expect, but then she explodes in the middle of the street.

While everyone outside of those two panics and sprints into the distance at the flugels actions, a question comes up in his head.

 _She knows that violence doesn't work, right?_

Sure enough, a simple glance down at the two would reveal that, while he ground was damage, both of them were in prime condition. He didn't even feel the heat from the flames rushing along his face a moment prior.

 _Tet, thank you for the rules._

The 10 rules of the world truly were the greatest blessing upon man. They essentially made it so games decided everything and violence or theft were impossible.

Pretty cool.

It was especially nice when you consider Draga's natural game playing skills.

So, that all in mind, Draga holds no ill will towards the still miffed flugel, and he actually holds out a hand to help her up...

Not that she takes it. Instead she beats her wings once to fling herself up and, after a moment spent not toppling over, to her feet.

"Do you accept my apology?"

It was a fairly simple question, but it seems the natural tendency of flugels to be prideful and arrogant was still riding high.

She at least had the looks for it, being taller than him, paler than him without anything discoloring her skin, long well kempt purple hair, and the physique of someone who, while not an athlete, kept up on their exercise.

Oh, and she was 'hot', as you'd call it. Shame on you for-.

I'm sorry... I just can't keep a straight face saying that. She was gorgeous as all hell- or heaven, if you want to be technical about it- and rocked that shit out in what was probably 2 square feet of fabric.

"Why should I accept any apology from you? You caused the problem in the first place."

She glowers at him, but there's a hint of curiosity in the back of her teal eyes.

"Alright, human. I will accept your apology IF you can beat me in a game."

Draga's expression displays his dissatisfaction at it, but he nods his consent to playing the game anyway.

"I want your life if you lose."

Pretty steep demand, but this was an angelic race. Pride was their bread and butter, so knocking her down would be punished with death if not for the no violence clause.

"And what do I get out of it? An accepted apology isn't exactly worth my life."

 _Not that I'd be losing it anyway._

She mulls it over for a moment.

"Well, in order to beat me you'd have to be a veritable legend... I have today free, so you can have an hour of my time."

A confident smile radiates from her features before her glower comes back full force from what Draga said.

What was that again?

"Two."

"N-"

"Last I checked, the challenged party makes the rules of the game. Accept what I consider equal value, or I won't be playing very fair with the rules."

She sighs, hanging her head dramatically.

"Alright, but you have to pick a game I consider fair."

Draga nods, pulling out a sheet of paper to write down a logic riddle.

You might have heard of it, actually.

There are 5 houses in five different colors.  
In each house lives a person with a different nationality.  
These five owners drink a certain type of beverage, smoke a certain brand of cigar and keep a certain pet.  
No owners have the same pet, smoke the same brand of cigar or drink the same beverage.  
The Brit lives in the red house.  
The Swede keeps dogs as pets.  
The Dane drinks tea.  
The green house is on the left of the white house.  
The green house's owner drinks coffee.  
The person who smokes Pall Mall rears birds.  
The owner of the yellow house smokes Dunhill.  
The man living in the center house drinks milk.  
The Norwegian lives in the first house.  
The man who smokes blends lives next to the one who keeps cats.  
The man who keeps horses lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.  
The owner who smokes BlueMaster drinks beer.  
The German smokes Prince.  
The Norwegian lives next to the blue house.

Down at the bottom he also wrote a single sentence dictating the win condition, but he said it aloud as well.

"If you can't solve this riddle in 15 minutes, then I win."

When she nods her acceptance and starts working it out on a large grid, Draga was already smiling.

"Aschente."

He'd won the moment she consented, because it was impossible to solve.

Normally, this riddle had a complicated but still doable solution, but she accepted it without one of the hints. Manipulative, yes. Cheating, no.

Key difference, there. In this world, you either do everything you can to win or you die. It's true that his life wasn't usually on the line as a whole, but that doesn't mean his life wasn't critically affected almost every game he played.

 _So all there is to do is wait._

...

...

...

Wait he did, and for the whole 15 minutes. She kept going back and forth through the logic puzzle, checking for an error of some kind, and finding none. She suspected foul play, but Draga set the rules out blatantly and by cleverly not naming the riddle she couldn't call him out on anything because he never set a comparison between it and anything else.

Cheeky bastard.

Regardless, he had won. With a sigh of defeat, the flugel concedes her loss and hangs her head.

"So, what are we gonna do today?"

Draga smiles, scrapping the materials used in the relatively simple game.

"I was originally planning on visiting one of the Werebeasts movies, but if I'm going with someone else, how about a game instead?"

She seems surprised by that, but her expression vanishes just as fast as it appeared.

"Lead the way."

He holds up a hand, the other one scratching the top of his head as a habit he formed for when he asks something of a flugel.

Mostly it was to protect his head from Jibril, but that doesn't mean he was gonna stop.

"Well, you can teleport, right? You should know where the old Embassy was, so just bring us there."

She seems dubious for a moment before she holds out a hand to him.

Victory showing in his grin, Draga takes hold of the hand...

And instantly regrets when he loses his lunch all over a distant field.

 _Fantabulous._ (This is the combination of Fabulous and Fantastic.)

"Well, that's something I didn't expect from you."

From the smug self-satisfied smile coating her face, Draga can easily tell that she meant for him to be evacuating his digestive system. Although, I must admit, it was rather hard to do with his face aimed downward a few feet below her already higher head.

 _Damn being short._

Despite his rather impressive track record and fairly athletic person, he was only 5' 8". It was almost embarrassing to think that Shiro might be taller than him when she's older, even with her terrible diet.

 _Oh god..._

The very thought of what they considered a meal was enough to cause yet another heave, though he didn't have anything to give up anymore.

After finally recovering, Draga levels a death glare at the still smug flugel. Unfortunately, he had told her to teleport, so he couldn't really blame her for that.

"Let's go."

During the short walk to the actual tower from the field, Draga at least tries to strike up conversation.

"So, what's your name?"

It takes a moment, but she relinquishes her answer with as much added angst as she could muster.

"My name is Langit Himmel."

Draga thinks back to Sora and Shiro's first encounter, knowing that Sora's name meant exactly the same as both of hers, but he's smart enough to not say the same thing she did. It only worked between them because both of them are psychopaths.

Probably, anyway. They wouldn't visit anyone with the qualifications.

"And mine is Draga Konungur, thanks for asking."

She shrugs, not having asked for it.

"Being a king seems rather pointless without a kingdom."

That seems to hit a nerve, with Draga's eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I DO have a kingdom, actually. Perhaps you've heard of it since your country now belongs to it."

"Yeah, when Werebeasts fly."

Draga smiles, but not a pleasant one; he smiles one you'd expect on someone who knows something you don't.

He doesn't reply directly to her, though. Instead, he calls out to a blueheaded wolf Werebeast.

"Izuna, can you come here for a second?"

She wasn't even in the massive entrance hall when he said it, but her ears were more than sensitive enough to hear it a few floors above. Sure enough, she comes almost sprinting down the stairs in a ball of both murder and cute.

Funny how animal girls can do that.

Ducking out of the way of Izuna's attempted tackle, Draga greets her.

"Hello, Okami-chan." (Wolf-chan.)

She stands up rim-rod straight, saluting him.

"Salutations, Ouja-kun." (King-kun.)

While the words enough bring a slight merf to Langit's mood, but that's not Draga's bit reveal.

"Izuna, I'd like you to show this flugel that you can fly."

She doesn't respond with words, instead smiling in a way that shows her rapidly sharpening teeth. While various shades of red replace the previous shades of blue surrounding her body, a mist like aura emanates off of her.

With a single nod she vanishes, appearing in the sky an extended distance away and essentially multi-jumping around as she pleases.

Might as well count for flying since nobody can actually see exactly what she's doing when she's using it.

Langit lets out a gasp, staggering backwards at the display. She turns to face Draga, only seeing his confident smirk before turning away just as fast.

"It... No..."

While she essentially goes into denial for a moment, Izuna appears at Draga's side with the effects of **Blood Destruction** already fading.

Draga ruffles the hair of the short girl affectionately, saying some words of congratulations to the adorable little ball of energy.

Although most of that energy was now gone, which was good. Being completely trashed by someone he saw as a little sister in a video game was not on his to-do list.

"Up for a game, Izuna?"

She nods her head vigorously, a serious expression planted on her otherwise childish form.

"Perfect. Pick something with at least 3 players, and we can get started."

He would go on to regret letting her choose the game.

Draga ducks below yet another swinging kick by the feisty wolf Werebeast, not being given enough time to do anything but dodge the next strike as well. Izuna decided a fighting game would be best, and even said she wouldn't use her super-mode against him- though no such promise was made in regards to the flugel in the group-, yet Draga was cripplingly unprepared for just how ferocious and terrifying the little girl was.

The third kick in that particular volley forced Draga to lean back to far for him to balance properly, leaving him open for a leg swipe by the other combatant.

From the ground, Draga looks wearily up at her.

"You are truly a force of nature, you know that?"

She only smiles and tilts her head in a way she already proved defeats Draga easily.

Sighing, Draga stands up and ruffles her hair again.

From the sidelines, Langit hollers at Draga for being a weakling.

 _Seriously?_

"Just look at her! Can't you tell how dangerous she is."

 _I mean, look at her. Loose fitting kimono, no weapon, and the most adorable little girl in the world._

He shakes his head.

 _Can't she tell how dangerous Izuna is?_

She couldn't. First impressions count for a lot, and the little girl came off as too childish to be a threat to her angelic race.

Boy was she wrong.

Without magic on her side, because the full dive system didn't take into account magical affinities of any kind, she was squashed in seconds.

Meaning Draga lasted slightly longer than the flugel.

 _Oh goodie._

Not that it really meant anything. Izuna dealt with both of them almost effortlessly. Like, it doesn't even seem like she considered using **Blood Destruction** to begin with.

Just what did that say about how weak he was?

 _I'll work on it with Izuna later. For now..._

Draga sits down on the concrete outside an unnamed government building. It was still virtual, and he'd never been to the place the siblings called Tokyo, so he had no context for the place despite knowing that it was part of the above city.

That kind of sucked, actually, since it meant he couldn't dive into the lore of the place for his entertainment. I mean, call it what you may, but getting totally stomped isn't very interesting or satisfying.

 _It's not fun to completely stomp others, either._

"Izuna, you doing alright?"

She nods, but then her attention is grabbed by something he couldn't see. It takes a moment, but then he remembers that Werebeasts can still hear things outside of the full dive while within it.

"I'm sorry, guys. I gotta go."

The moment that was said, a gold ring started rising from the ground, seeming to delete the parts of her it passed over. Fortunately, that was just the fancy log out animation.

And the log in animation, something Langit was no doubt traumatized over. Missing your wings, legs, and torso will typically do that to you, even if for but a moment. Fortunately, there wasn't any actual missing limbs or pain involved.

After pulling her attention back to reality from wherever it was, she looks around for a moment before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Good... She's gone."

"Yep. So, what do you want to do now?"

The smile that appears on her face is all the answer he needs, but he already had her violent tendencies taken into account.

The game changes to one without pain stimuli, you might actually remember it from the original battle with Izuna and the agents of Blank before his entrance to the group.

Ah, what a fabulous game that was to watch. Shame you delete the NPCs when getting rid of their panties- a travesty, really. I mean, the entire stadium roared at the Werebeasts when Sora figured that out on stage.

 _Your sacrifice will not be in vain, onee-san._

Sure enough, they were within "Love or Loved 2: Hit Her With Your Bullet of Love!" as stupid a title as that was.

The game gave each person a 'Love Gun', but, since they were on the same team, she couldn't just pop a cap in him and win. Yes, she could use the gun to make him fall madly in love with her, but the effects lasts only a few seconds and the shot would only really benefit him in the long run by refilling his ammo gauge.

Speaking of shooting people, Langit looked like she really wanted to do just that.

"So, any games you want to play?"

Her answer was fairly simple.

She shot him in the face with the cartoonish gun.

 _You're going to regret that._

The artificial feelings overwhelm his senses, blinding him in an array of reds and pinks and making him completely unaware of what he's doing for what he counts to be 5 seconds.

Not that he minds what he wakes up to, by any means.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Draga's momentary perverted smile vanished, replace by a confident smirk.

"Did you seriously not see the game between Imanity and the Werebeasts?"

Looks like she hadn't, since she was surprised by his admittedly rather forward groping.

 _I guess I should probably stop, though._

Regret being suppressed to the back of his mind, Draga takes his hand off of her ample bosom and returns it to his side.

"The gun makes people lose self control. Just imagine what a sexually repressed adult might do..."

Okay, that was a lie. He wasn't repressed, but rather too busy for it. Relationships and the horizontal happy dance never really caught his eye in comparison to playing games.

That's not to say he didn't want it, though, as was clearly evident by what happened when he was shot.

She doesn't react as he expected, by slapping him, but instead just blushes and turns away, a 'humph' escaping her lips sometime during it.

"So, what game do you want to play?"

The pink fades from her cheeks as she frowns, trying to come up with something.

"Is there a virtual version of Risk here?"

Draga blatantly laughs at her, obviously offending her.

"What?"

Pulling himself together and wiping a single tear from his eye, Draga snaps and summons the board game in question.

"I'm sorry *ha-ha*, I just didn't expect *ho-o* you to choose something so simple."

That seems to offend her as well, her arms defensively taking hold of the large box in front of them.

"What's wrong with picking a classic?"

Draga's laughing fit finally stops, allowing him to clear his throat and reply properly.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just a shock to find someone else who enjoys the oxymoron that is no stakes Risk."

She nods, but then she has some sort of internal revelation.

"Why... Why don't we have some stakes?"

Draga raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

"And what? We already have a flugel within Blank, and, as a royal participant, I have access to just about anything I want within the kingdom."

She nods, seeming to understand that as well. Both of them were well off, although being well off as a flugel was invariably easy since they didn't require nutrition or sleep like the other mortal races.

"Well, we could always bet using ourselves and-."

Before she even finishes her sentence, Draga has already said 'Aschente', consenting to the start of the game. The rules were obvious, winner of the game wins.

And the winner gets the other for themselves...

Fortunately, she was smart enough to resist the instinct to say Aschente as well, so she wasn't trapped within that game.

"Okay, Draga. You want my body, yes?"

Draga looks at her with a face that blatently says 'no duh'.

"Well, if I win, I get your life."

 _Eh. It's pretty much the same as before. Technically, I can order her to do whatever I want for the next..._

He checks his watch.

 _-hour and 13 minutes._

Wow, that was a lot of time.

"Final thing. You can't order me to lose."

 _Shit! Well... I'm pretty good at Risk, probably better than everyone outside of Blank. If she wins, she probably deserves it._

Draga sighs, but waves her off in acceptance.

"Aschente."

"Aschente."

And thus the game of 2 player Risk commences.

The early game was rather standard for a duel. Someone takes over the smallest and largest continents, since they were next to each other, and the other person gets the middle two. It's a shame, actually, that there were only 4 continents on this special map, because Draga could have pulled ahead if there were more.

While peace was maintained for a while, the buildup at the borders wears on them enough that the fighting finally breaks out, causing Draga to spread his soldiers across the largest continent, and Langit's to spill into the second largest on his side.

The game goes as a back and forth for a while, due to the stored up troops, but Draga pulls ahead thanks to the size difference in complete continents.

And RNJesus, but nobody talks about him.

Unfortunately, just as Draga is pulling ahead, Langit pulls a line directly through the northeast continent and down into his other, claiming exactly 1 territory there...

 _And that's game._

It might not sound that spectacular. I mean, it was only 1 territory.

But that gave her a continent bonus while he didn't get one.

And she could keep that 1 territory down strat up now that it was started.

"Good game."

Draga's face defies the flugels message, but only because his life was forfeit.

"Alright, slave. As my first act as your master..."

She trails off, thoughts focus apparently elsewhere, and he finds out where a moment later.

The game resets.

"I order you to play again."

 _Oh boy..._

He had honestly expected worse, but there was time for that.

 _Might see where this goes._

More than 4 hours and a total of 19 games, only 4 of which were Risk, later, Draga was standing triumphantly on the marble steps of the still unknown building. Langit offered him his freedom if he won 10 games before she did, and that's exactly what happened.

10-9, whew.

"So, you ready for a rematch to that original game?"

Langit shakes her head, a smile forming.

"I'm good, thanks. I got what I needed."

Draga looks dubious, but accepts the answer since he'd worked pretty hard to get out of it.

"Do you... Do you want to go see a movie?"

Cliche, yes, but he had planned to go to a movie from the get go, so seeing one before the day ended would be nice.

Hell, they were even connected to the main computer of the Embassy, giving them virtually infinite access to whatever they wanted, within virtual reality anyway. They couldn't create something brand new, unfortunately, or Draga would be riding atop an astral sparkle-dragon.

All of that in mind, Draga snaps his fingers the moment Langit starts nodding.

And there they were; a movie theater surrounded them complete with other people sitting down.

"You can teleport here?"

 _Odd... I'd have thought she'd figured that out by the whole summoning thing._

Regardless, he wasn't gonna be condescending towards his first date in years.

"Yeah. It's a neat power they came up with to take care of commutes."

He holds his hands in front of him, a frankly massive tub of caramel corn appearing within them. He takes a few, stuffing them within his mouth, and looks expectantly at Langit to see what she summons.

I believe I mentioned that flugels don't need food, but that doesn't mean they don't eat.

She holds out a single hand, a rather large, though still much smaller than Draga's snack, chocolate old fashioned donut appearing within it.

 _Not bad. Best kind of donut..._

On second thought, he summons one of those too. It was virtual anyway, so he might as well gorge himself.

The movie finally starts, but the Werebeasts saw fit to add the commercials and previews too. I mean, come on. Was it really necessary?

Probably, for copyright reasons, but still.

While they wait for it to be over, the two of them strike up a conversation.

"So, what's it like being a flugel?"

She sighs, reaching over to pat down one of her wings as she tries to fit into the seat. It wasn't designed for people with wings, but rather tails.

Stingy gits.

"Inconvenient. Ever since Tet took over, we lost our primary directive. We don't need like the other species, so we mostly just play amongst ourselves, but whenever we leave we're either looked at as trophies or monsters."

Draga... Doesn't have a reply for that. Racism was a fairly heavy topic, and not one that he can just make vanish.

Well... He could try, at least.

"I see you as a friend."

That might sound odd, but a good 5 hours spent playing games with a person can do that to you. You are angry with someone, or are just messing with them... And then you care.

"Thank you."

She smiles, but it's well hidden by a bite into the donut. Fortunately, Draga was paying just enough attention to notice.

"No problem."

He takes a bite of his own, testing it out. The virtual world simulated foods a bit oddly sometimes, like how strawberries had the aftertaste of an apple, but it seems the donuts weren't effected.

 _Thank Tet for that._

Yes, Draga was a drama llama, but at least he was one exclusively in regards to food.

It's a shame it was virtual, though. Being able to satisfy his physical needs virtually would be the ultimate boon.

 _Not that there aren't some it can._

Draga smacks his head, much to Langit's confusion.

 _Bad brain._

The movie actually starts and, lo and behold, it's a documentary.

"Definitely worth the zero dollars I payed to get in."\

Okay, documentaries weren't that bad, but he was on a date dammit.

"Want to go somewhere else?"

Fortunately, she had the same idea.

"Yeah, but where to?"

She mulls over that for a second, Draga being just as deep in thought. She comes up with an idea first, however.

"Have you ever actually been to the home of the flugels?"

Draga nods, quickly following it up with a brief sentence so he can continue his thoughts.

"I've been; I've done enough."

After a moment more of deliberation, he comes up with his own idea.

"Have you ever tried parkour?"

She narrows her eyes, but is forced to say that she hadn't.

"It's pretty fun, and makes travers-."

He stops, remembering that she can both teleport and fly, so becoming a traceur would be pretty much useless.

"Nevermind..."

This goes back and forth for a while, the documentary diving into the career of some guy named Tommy Emmanuel. He seemed good with a guitar, as Classical Gas would prove, but he was otherwise unimportant in their eyes.

"Actually, do you play an instrument?"

This takes Draga by surprise, but he answers readily enough.

"I have learned to play the piano and the bagpipes. Honestly, the latter is just to wake up Sora and Shiro without blinding myself with the sun."

She doesn't get the jab, but he laughs at his own in-joke anyway.

"I don't play anything, really, but I can sing."

He seems to peer off into the distance for a moment, but then he snaps and teleports them once again.

This time, they were the ones on stage, but there wasn't anyone in the audience. It was just the two of them and a piano.

"Well, let's see about that."

He hands her a newly conjured stack of papers with lyrics, pulling out his own to set on the piano.

(The song is 'This Game' but in English rather than Romanji. I can't publish links, but there are piano only instrumental versions of this song out there.)

We refuse to become a gear that spins in a rhythm of monotony  
Conforming to society's expectations is like a living hell

And while we were playing, God brought us into a world ruled by games  
No no no game no life  
In an instant, our lives of peace and tranquility changed  
Into a journey up the stairs of glory, carving our names in history

Before us lies a future of ultimate victory,  
With everything proceeding as planned  
Now's our chance, let's cleanse this world together

We are maverick, assistance is unneeded  
No matter how unfair, or difficult our challenge may be,  
Success is only a victory away  
We'll challenge the undefeated using our wits and talent  
And soak in the exhilarating joy of victory  
All we need is faith in ourselves

There is no foe stronger than the darkness that lurks within our hearts  
As long as we're determined, we will not be defeated

We'll not exchange our pride for such a shallow sense of assurance  
No no no sense of life  
Let's expel the savage noises that pollute this world  
And replace it with the serene voice of humanity

Our choice of fighting is of no mistake  
Because we've learnt that even if we lose everything we have,  
The outcome will always be a victory

We are maverick, logic is unneeded  
Having to wait for others before moving on  
Makes our journey much less interesting  
So rather than following them, let's do this on our own  
With a load off our shoulders, we'll pave our own path  
And press forth together, to the very end

Do not hesitate, for this is the path we've chosen  
Even during the times when we're at a loss,  
And feel like they've stripped us of our pride  
There's only one honorable way for us succeed

We are maverick, assistance is unneeded  
No matter how unfair, or difficult our challenge may be,  
Success is only a victory away  
We'll challenge the undefeated using our wits and talent  
And when we finally have the world in our hands,  
We'll smile with renewed spirits

We are maverick, the strongest maverick gamers  
As long as we're together, we can face any obstacles  
And with faith in ourselves, anything can be achieved

...

The song ends, and she looks at Draga quizzically.

"Who... Who is this about?"

The suave answer would have been 'us', but he was just slightly too honest for that.

"This is a song me and a royal composer came up with about the king and queen. It's a bit hard to translate the lyrics into their story if you don't know them on a personal level, but I assure you that it's all accurate."

She seems actually troubled by that.

 _Hm..._

"What is it?

"You mean, they never lose?"

Draga's face is introduced to someone named Palm.

"You were upset that they always win?"

She uses one of his previous expressions against him, the one of 'no duh'.

While Draga's palm doesn't leave his face entirely, it slides down it to his chin.

"Alright, look. They do lose, but they never lose with anything important on the line. They went back and forth for weeks in order to determine who the crown went to just because of how ridiculous and how capable they really are."

She nods like she understands, but the expression gives it away. Despite the flugels losing a match against Sora and Shiro, that was a Werebeast game. It was simply preposterous that two humans were actually more capable than their own angelic race.

Right?

Unfortunately, reality doesn't care about what you believe in.

"This song is about the power of their union, not their components. I can beat Sora at most math games and I can beat Shiro at most RPG styles games. It's all about their individual skills. When together, though..."

He sighs, remembering the poker game that originally won him entrance into Blank. Technically, Draga should have won, but, thanks to Shiro's totally not fake incompetence in the three player game, Sora pulled out just enough of those silver coins to win the game.

At least he acknowledged him, then.

"-they aren't really something we can match with brains alone."

Her nod is no longer tainted with an expression of confusion, so he accepts that she understands.

"So, what do you think?"

"Of what, your singing?"

A simple nod confirms that.

"It was... Hard to describe, actually. It's almost as if it fit perfectly despite any problems. Your need to breathe, the slight wavering during long notes, it all seems to improve the performance."

While she blushes, she doesn't fluster, which is a nice change of pace for the redhead.

"Thank you."

It was a simple two syllable phrase, but it carried more meaning and impact than anything they'd said today.

Draga smiles, his eyes meeting hers.

"The sky is larger than any star."

The smile is returned with equal force.

"And the king's tower reaches for the sky."

 _A pun, a reference, and an innuendo all in one..._

"I love you."

She leans forward, her mouth right next to his ear as she whispers the most important sentence in the world.

"I love you too."

 **Normally, I'd love to continue past this, but I have decided to keep this PG-13 at the highest (fantasy violence), so those of you who want lemons must look elsewhere.**

 **For now, anyway. If people truly want it, I'd be down for creating it separately.**

 **I think you are all smart enough to assume what happens in the next... hour and 13 minutes. ;)**


	2. God-1

The world was still black when he opened his eyes, but for a different reason. Anyone there looking up would see that the sky itself was now black.

There was an explanation for that.

 **[LVL150]**

 **Surga, The Blackened Sky**

The Nevermore he summoned filled the sky, easily spanning a mile with it's physically impossible wings.

 _Ho-ho-ho._

That wasn't all, though. As he glances around himself, his old text boxes were all gone. That was standard by now, but there were several new ones already spinning around him.

With a touch of **Extrasensory Perception** he reads through all of them in less than a second.

 **By restoring your Aura the skill [Aura] has been enabled!**

 **By restoring your Aura the skill [Lightning Aura] has been enabled!**

 **By restoring your Aura the skill [Aureola] has been enabled!**

 **By summoning a Grimm with a level above 120 you have acquired the title [The Grimm God]!**

 **Grimm God (Equipped)**

 **Since time immemorial Grimm have walked Remnant with only a vague order to follow: destroy those surrounded by Specters of Grim. However, like all things, their life will change. There is a new order in play: yours.**

 **Grants dominion over any Grimm not in direct control by a Rider or Malkuth.**

 **Decreases summoning scale per level from 1.2 to 1.15.**

 **Increases EXP generation by summoned Grimm by 50%.**

The title made sense, mostly.

 _What the hell is a rider?_

But the other three notifications were completely out of place. How did he restore his Aura?

He glances down to his neck where Babel sat. A glance at his newly opened status page revealed that it was empty.

 _My soul goes to Disboard when I die... I poured my Aura into Babel back when it was still in tact, so could it pour it back into my corpse via path of least resistance?_

Another thought enters his head.

 _What happened to the magic Babel poured into it?_

The item was currently empty, meaning there wasn't anything in it that could be converted to MP. Does that mean Babel's magic was part of him now? Even less obvious was whether that meant anything. With his soul in tact and **Gamer's**...

 **Gamer's Mind** was missing.

 _Well..._

That was a problem. **Cleanse** was available again, so he wasn't completely doomed, but, if anybody pulled something like **Puppet Strings** out of their ass again, he'd be screwed.

 _Alright, I'll deal with that later. For now... I have an introduction to do._

The power of a reputation or lies should never be doubted. If someone believes you to be far too powerful to fight, that fear can be enough of an advantage to make it true.

That, and both Jaune and the game gave him a wonderful idea.

 _I will become the true God of Grimm._

Using the appearance editor, he changes his appearance completely in order to make it match the creatures of Grimm.

 **For a visual, look at the picture to the story. It might be changed later, but I will deal with that when it happens. You can click for a larger version of the photo.**

Beneath his white plague-doctor mask, Draga smiles.

The power... The feeling of absolute power.

It was intoxicating.

Draga chuckles to himself, although Jaune looks more than a little terrified by it.

 _Oh that's right... He's here._

Draga turns to face him, his mask only highlighting the new red shade of his eyes.

"I believe you called me Death."

His grin growing in equal proportion to the fear in Jaune's eyes, Draga changes his voice to that of his former companion with a keen application of **White Tiger's Roar**.

 **"I guess I should live up to the name."**

Draga sprints forward, though with the speed he was moving at it would look to all like he just vanished into a cloud of smoke.

Jaune saw it differently thanks to his own sensory skills... Despite seeing it, he couldn't move a single inch from his location before he's blown backwards, sent cascading across the wasteland in an attempt to mime being a tumbleweed.

The newly minted god's laughter spiked while watching his opponent speed off into the distance from the force of a single punch.

 _I could get used to this._

That 'fight' was over, but it seemed Jaune's allies weren't as likely to back down.

 _Welp... Let's get this over with._

With a bored sigh, Draga turns to face the group of animal, plant, faunus, and human that seemed to have a deathwish.

 **"Raven. Adam. Autumn. Tai. Are you sure you want to disappear?"**

It seemed they did. They attacked, after all.

Knowing it would be a frankly pitiful fight, even against the mountain sized intelligent dog and the highly evolved and free-form plant that Jaune thought of as his daughter, Draga uses **Tachyon** to 'warp' atop his newest creation.

Through the empowered eyes his power granted him, he saw them looking around for Draga.

 **"It's a shame you'll never find me."**

Understanding his intention from the cryptic message, Surga beats its wings once.

...

...

...

 **BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-~-** **ERROR**

A simple glance down below would provide all the evidence of their demise he really needed. The invisible air pressure born from that singular flap blasted downward, compacting the soil and rocks downwards hard enough to carve out a crater the length of the grand canyon and nearly as deep.

To say he was surprised would be both an insult to him and totally accurate.

 _Whew... Glad I got out of there first._

He was certainly confident in his abilities, but watching people pancake against the ground hard enough to essentially become one with it... That was just gruesome.

Regardless, Draga wasn't too severely affected by it. Being above the wing beat meant he only felt the relatively pitiful forces exerted on the physically impossible creature's back.

 _Well, I have a doomsday weapon. Might as well use it._

Without doing more than tilting its wings slightly, Surga starts speeding off into the distance at a pace no airship could hope to match.

 **"People of Remnant, you no longer need to wonder where your god is; he's right here."**

He chuckles to himself for a brief moment.

 **"And he's fresh out of mercy."**

* * *

 **Hey, guys. This isn't canon, obviously, but I felt like doing a side series where Draga actually abuses his power to get more than just more skills and stats. God-# won't have very long chapters, but they should be numerous enough to get everything I wanted across.**

 **On a different note, I will start creating GameName-#, meaning I will be creating side stories of Draga entering video game universes I won't actually visit in canon. This is gonna be things like Fallout or Sword Art Online. These will be much shorter than God-#, but have the same length chapters.**

 **Speaking of which, these will be coming a lot faster than Fickle Things due to having around 1/4 the length and the ease acquired from being able to branch away from canon.**


	3. God-2

**Okay, I will admit, I was wrong. I got engrossed in Fickle Things and pretty much forgot about God-#...**

 **I've had this chapter for weeks now, and I completely derped on publishing it.**

 **Welp, here you go.**

* * *

The mere sight of Surga in the sky put Vale to a standstill, even from miles away. Ziz had already been introduced, cloaked within the mountains to the north, but this.

Surga was on a scale unto its own.

At a distance where Draga didn't even register despite his contrast against the white of the massive Nevermore's mask, it blocked out the sun.

And then, as it sped towards Vale at speeds completely unheard of by both machine and man, Draga spoke.

 **"Greetings people of Vale, I have come to relieve your fears and instill a new one."**

The voice boomed against the borders of the walled city, echoing throughout at a volume that allowed even those underground to hear.

 **"I have attained control over the Grimm, including the legendary beast beneath me."**

For the sake of emphasis, he makes Surga cry out over the land with visible sound waves leveling the unfortunate mountain in front of her at the time.

 **"Any questions will be directed towards me and my massive bird. On that note, do any of you have any questions?"**

There are very few answers, and the few he gets are all pertaining to his plans for the future.

Specifically if he was going to kill them.

 **"I see you fear for your lives."**

There are nods from a lot of people, but many more are still standing in confused silence.

 **"Well fear not. I have not come to kill you all, and even if I had I'd have done it already. Instead, I wish to, how you say, take over the world."**

More responses, although it was hard to hear many of the whispers even with his frankly ridiculous sensory capabilities.

Unfortunately for them, one person stood out from the group...

Because he was on top of the bird too.

Draga disables his voice enhancement, his aura awakening to replace it. The pressure the newly blackened soul he'd been granted has is powerful enough to bring many humans down below to their knees and many children pass out, but Ozpin stands there defiantly without any visible reaction.

"And why would we let you take over the world?"

Draga smiles broadly, although his plague doctor mask prevents it from being seen.

 **"And why would I tell you if you could stop me?"**

It was true that Ozpin was powerful, that much was obvious, but there was a tiny flaw in his plan.

Chaos rules supreme.

No matter how capable Ozpin was, it mattered not if Chaos wanted him to let Draga work and was able to stop Ozpin. Before he even glanced in his direction, Draga already knew he stole his Chaos Token.

And he could see what it was doing to him, even though Ozpin couldn't.

 **"Please, do tell where that came from. I'd love to turn a thief over to their god."**

Ozpin glowers, a hand entering his jacket pocket to pull it out.

But it doesn't. The moment it touches the trinket, Ozpin loses control over the limb.

 **"You absolute fool; didn't anyone teach you not to take what isn't yours?"**

The answer was actually yes, but Oz wasn't going to say reply to that.

Draga smiles, tilting his head in amusement.

 **"Ah... Did I hurt the little headmasters feelings?"**

Ozpin still doesn't respond, but a twitch in his eyebrows gives away his annoyance.

 _You know, this is actually kind of fun._

 **"Tzeench, come on out, would you?"**

Ozpin convulses spaztically for a second before his eyes level at Draga's.

"You called?"

Draga smirks, his calm gaze mirroring the Chaos God's own.

 **"I assume you want something?"**

The corrupted man smiles, a pleasant one full of warmth in complete opposition to the meaning of his words.

"I just want a little entertainment."

Draga's smirk morphs, turning into a cruel grin.

 **"Enjoy the show."**

As those words settle, Draga lifts his hands upwards and into the **Abyss**.

"Oh, I will."

Draga's hand falls down out of it, a massive data file about a certain Alex Mercer sitting in his hands.

In a flash of light, the file is gone and the knowledge and skills it contained were all beamed into his head.

 _Hehehehe._

Draga's hand bursts into a mix of red and black tendrils, the shattering of his skin not even causing a single ounce of pain in his body. The tendrils wrap around themselves, forming a massive tentacle that had a name but...

Extendotentacle. Way better.

Especially with the range the skill offered.

It didn't.

That's right... He had an infinite range melee attack. Brilliant design.

But, it was just a start.

Soon, this world would know fear.

* * *

 **I must apologize again. These were supposed to be a lot more frequent then they are, but I swear Villain!Draga is gonna be a thing I write. It's actually kind of interesting writing like this. It's like writing the original Grim again, but with even more ridiculous powers.**

 **Perfection.**


End file.
